


quatervois

by nepentheandkalopsia



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: Internal homophobia, M/M, Period Typical Homophobia, crowley is sad and so am i, halt is high on pain meds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 20:27:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nepentheandkalopsia/pseuds/nepentheandkalopsia
Summary: period typical homophobia and our fave boys





	quatervois

**Author's Note:**

> quatervois  
> (n.) a crossroads; a critical decision or turning point in one's life

Crowley sighed, continuing to hem up a tear in Halt's cloak. He took a moment to glance at the man in question, who was passed out cold in the bed Crowley was sat next to. The Hibernian had gotten in a scuffle with some bandits and had gotten stabbed rather badly and much to Crowley's chagrin, the wound had gotten infected. As a result, the other ranger had been drugged and in bed for a little over a week, waking up for short periods of time before falling back into an induced slumber. Crowley heard Halt shift a little in the bed and he hurriedly set down his mending and switched from sitting in a chair to the bed.

“Halt? Can you hear me?” he asked hopefully, and the man groaned a little in response, opening his eyes. Halt frowned at the ceiling, eyes still unfocused. He stared around the room, holding a hand in front of his eyes as though wondering why he couldn't see as well as usual. Crowley took it and Halt's eyes snapped to him.   
“Hey,” Crowley said, squeezing his hand, “how are you feeling?” Halt frowned deeper, seeming to be trying to form words, opening his mouth once or twice before finally settling on an answer.

“I feel weird,” he told Crowley simply, who rolled his eyes fondly in response. He ruffled Halt's hair a little, smiling a bit at the petulant scowl he got in response.

“Yeah, that's because you're high on a bunch of drugs,” he told the Hibernian, “they're helping with the pain and the infection. Because, you know, you got stabbed pretty bad,” Halt raised an eyebrow in response to that.

“Oh? I don't remember that,” he looked down at his chest, seeming genuinely confused.

“You'll remember eventually,” Crowley reassured him, “and I'll lecture you then too, so you'll actually remember.” Halt nodded a little blankly before pulling himself up into a straighter position, assisted by Crowley. The red-haired man helped him drink some water and get a little more comfortable. Halt fixed Crowley with an unwavering gaze in response and Crowley gave him a half-smile.

“What?” he asked, straightening the covers around Halt.

“You're pretty,” Halt said abruptly, and Crowley started with surprise.

“You- what?” he asked a little weakly, meeting Halt's eyes, which weren't guarded for once.

“You're really pretty,” Halt repeated, almost dreamily, “you know that?” Crowley was silent for a moment before finally answering, “no, but thank you, Halt.” Halt seemed offended at the answer, frown back on his face.

“Well you are,” he assured Crowley, who was at a loss of what to do.

“Thank you,” he eventually said, figuring that Halt wouldn't remember any of this anyway and marking it all up to Halt being out of his mind on drugs. They settled into a comfortable silence for a minute. Crowley took Halt's hand again absently, rubbing it with his thumb in comforting circles. He was pulled out of his thoughts as Halt shifted up a little into a better sitting position. He frowned at Halt, putting a hand on his arm in a steadying manner. 

“Hey, watch it, you'll rip your stitches,” Crowley fretted, leaning forward and tucking the blanket around Halt again. Halt gave him a noncommittal hum and Crowley just shook his head.   
“Are you in any pain?” he asked and Halt shrugged, prompting Crowley to roll his eyes again and busy himself with pouring out Halt's next portion of medicine. He helped him swallow it down and set the mug down on the bedside table. Halt gripped Crowley's sleeve and tugged it. The older man turned towards him with a questioning look.

“What's wrong?” Crowley asked, but Halt just shook his head as he grabbed the sides of Crowley's face. “Halt-” Crowley started but got cut off as Halt kissed him. Crowley froze in place for a moment, mind racing, before he pulled away. “Halt...” he started, conflicted.

“What's wrong?” Halt asked, seeming a little hurt. Crowley was at a loss for a moment.

“I- I'm not Pauline, Halt,” he said softly, and the man tilted his head to the side.

“I know,” he answered bluntly, then tried to lean forward again. Crowley leaned back, out of the injured man's reach.

“Halt, I thought you liked Pauline,” Crowley said, “not me.”

“I mean, I like Pauline,” Halt affirmed, “but I like you too. I love you both.”

“Halt,” Crowley sucked in a shaky breath, “no, you can't love me. It's not- it's not right.”

“Why isn't it? It feels right,” Halt told him, and Crowley felt his heart ripping out of his chest.

“I know,” he whispered, hating the shakiness in his voice, “but you can't say that. You can't love me because you, you're supposed to marry Pauline and have a happy, normal life. You're not supposed to be alone, hated-” he swallowed hard- “like people like me are.”

“People don't hate you.”

“Not currently,” he told him gently, “but they would if they knew.”

Halt finally fell silent, and Crowley realized that the next round of drugs was finally setting in and he was falling asleep. He took the Hibernian's hand again, scrubbing at his eyes with the other.  
“I'm sorry,” he murmured, “I'm so sorry,” he brushed the hair out of Halt's eyes gently, “I wish things were different.” 

He found himself wondering hopelessly if people like him and Halt could ever exist in peace. Why was the idea of them so wrong? Why was he so wrong and broken? He supposed really, in the end, the answer to those questions didn't really matter when he already knew what the truth was.

That Pauline was Halt's right answer and he wasn't.

**Author's Note:**

> It's four am and I just wrote this in one sitting but I heard 1950 by King Princess for the first time (go listen to it) and it inspired this idea and I had to get it out. It made me even sadder than I previously was so hey.  
> I'd like to note that I'm not homophobic and am in fact queer but I wanted to write some period typical homophobia so have fun being cursed by this abomination, I'm going to sleep.   
> Before I do tho yes Halt is OOC in this but he's also high as fuck and I'm presuming he isn't constantly in the book so shush.  
> Sorry for any mistakes this is unedited and I also don't care so it's whatever anyway.


End file.
